Chaotic Bisexual Energy

“My lady?” A rough voice from outside called out. One of them maids ushers towards the door, swinging it open. Two guards stand outside your door, eerily similar faces and builds. They bow slightly before speaking, 

“His Highness sends a gift. He hopes you will accept it.” The one on the right pulls out a slim box from his robe, holding it in the palm of his hands. You retrieve it from him, your fingers gliding over the wooden box. You glance up at them, then your ladies-in-waiting. They smile at you softly, encouraging you to open it. 

You open the box, sliding the top open. Wrapped in a silk cloth is a beautiful hairpin. Datura flowers and vines are wrapped around the end, dangling with rubies. It’s beautiful. And definitely expensive. 

This sovereign definitely has money. You’re somewhat comforted by the fact that you will live at least comfortably. You look up at your ladies-in-waiting. One of them squeals with excitement, standing beside you. Her eyes twinkle with joy as she admires the hairpin, 

“My Lady! This is wonderful! His Highness has sent you a hairpin!” You don’t understand what the excitement is about. It is a hairpin. Albeit, it’s beautiful. There’s no denying that, but why are they all squealing and giggling. 

You place it back in the box, carefully wrapping it back into the silk cloth. You bow your head gently towards the two guards. 

“Please relay my gratitude to His Highness. It is beautiful.” You speak, soft and elegant. The two guards leave, your ladies and you standing in the center of the room. The oldest lady who is cleaning out your dresser speaks, 

“Perhaps he isn’t as horrible as the men of the nation rumor him to be.” She lightly glares at the two youngest who were whispering earlier. She places her hand on your shoulder, smiling. Despite knowing you for a short time, she has been nothing but kind. 

“What does this mean though?” You ask, looking around as they all look at you surprised. Then, they all smile knowingly. A few giggle, the oldest lady sighing. Nobody answers your question, ushering you out of your clothes. 

They help you lotion yourself, rubbing a scented oil on your skin while another lights a multitude of incense. You wonder what he truly is like. A tyrant, you’ve heard. Harsh, irritable, cruel— These words coil in your stomach. It’s not as if you can run away now.

Perhaps it is better to be the wife of a tyrant than to be on the streets, just waiting for some unruly man to harm you once more…. 

The two of you sit across from one another, a round table between your bodies. You keep your gaze on your lap, the red veil covering your view of him. You’ve yet to get a good look at him. His piercing gaze frightening you enough. 

He holds a porcelain cup in his hand, eyeing the cold cup resting in front of you. He reaches over, pouring the cold contents of your cup into his own. He proceeds to pour you a fresh one, hot and steaming. 

“It gets cold in this area at night. It is custom to drink hot tea before you go to sleep.” He speaks casually, his voice deep and rumbling in his chest. He looks at you, resting his elbow on his raised knee. “You can remove your veil if you’d like. I can help if you so desire.” 

There’s a playful tone to his words, but your guard is still up. You gently remove your veil, still looking down at you. He does not chide you. He nudges the tea cup closer, leaning over the table. 

“Drink.” He orders, tone stern. You finally return his gaze, head raising. Your eyes widen slightly. The ladies at the pavilion did not describe just how famous the Autarch of Xuanyu truly is. His shoulders are broad even under his robes, sharp features, beautiful eyes. 

His eyes. You feel compelled to compliment him, but keep shut. You finally take the teacup into your hand, sniffing it before drinking. Something with ginger. You aren’t too knowledgeable… 

You set it back down as he clears his throat. He beckons you to sit comfortably. You finally rest your stiff posture, getting comfortable on the floor. 

“I wanted to ask you, Your Highness.” You finally speak up. He interrupts you before you can finish. 

“Sylus.” He states. You flash him a confused face. “My name is Sylus. You are my wife. You are under no obligation to call me by my title. We are of equal standing. There is no need to address me so formally.” You blink owlishly at him. Sylus chuckles, drinking the last bit of his cold tea. “Apologies. Continue.” He nods. 

“Why did you pay to marry me? If it is for political power, I regret to inform you that my father was the one who gave me away. I am of no use.” You softly sigh, preparing for him to become angry. 

“I am aware.” He replies, watching your every move. Again, you are bewildered. He is an odd man. 

“Then why…?” You mumble, quickly stopping. 

“Speak freely in my presence. You are my wife. You have that authority.” He narrows his eyes at you as if he is trying to convince you. You nod in reply. “I simply felt as if I should. There is no other reason.” 

You can’t help but think there is more to it, but you keep silent. You nod in reply, not digging deeper. 

“Then, are there any rules you have for me?” You bow your head once more. He sits straighter, reaching forward to tip your head up. 

“A few. One, do not bow your head at me. We are of equal stations. I am your husband, you, my wife. It is unnecessary.” He leans back, eyes still on your form. He raises two fingers. “Secondly, I would like to have one meal with you every day. We are married. It would be nice to get to know one another, yes?” 

You nod in return, pouring him more tea. 

“This isn’t a rule, but you are free to live in whatever way suits you. If you would like to find a job somewhere, I do not mind. Though, you are free to spend my pension with no restrictions. But if you wish to, I will not stop you. Even if you stay in my home and do nothing but lounge about, it does not bother me.” He breathes in, voice low, almost whispering. 

“All I ask is that you eat a meal with me. That is all. Whichever meal of your choice, any food of your choice. I will make time for you. You are allowed to call on me no matter what. I am your husband, I will be there.” That strikes you in the chest. It is surprising, seeing how… polite he is compared the stories you have heard. But you’re smarter than that, than to blindly believe the word of a man. But you nod, you do not object. 

“I thank you, Your Highness.” You raise your arms to bow your head, but he grabs a hold of your forearms. His grip isn’t tight, but there’s enough pressure to capture your attention. He lowers your arms, your eyes gazing into his. His face looks pained, almost uncomfortable. 

“Sylus. And do not bow to me. Lest you want me to bow to you?” His eyebrows perk up, mischief swirling in his eyes. You widen your eyes, shaking your head. The corners of his lips curl upwards as he stands on his feet. 

“Good. Then I shall go to my chambers.” He hums. You stumble to your feet. 

“Wait. Do you not…” Your words falter, seeing his smirk form as he looks over his shoulder. 

“Would you like to?” He asks, brows raised. Amused to the fullest degree. Your cheeks flush, irritated. He is far too mischievous for an official. You shake your head, clearing your throat. 

“Goodnight then, my dear.” You nod in reply, eyeing the room around you as you try to calm your racing heart. 

The Autarch of Xuanyu is not a picky eater. He doesn’t have a penchant for sweets, but he eats whatever you choose. Oftentime, the skillful merchant takes you out to eat, walk around the city. People stare, awfully so. 

A beautiful girl with a man like him… It is peculiar. What’s even more peculiar to Sylus is that you do not wear any other hairpin aside from the one he gifted you on your wedding night. As the carriage drives into the city, he leans down to whisper in your ear. 

“My dear.” His shoulder rubs against yours. You peel your eyes away from the scenery and look up at him. Your eyebrows raise softly. “Do you not like any of your other jewelry?” He asks, noting the simplicity of your outfits. You typically hone the same jewelry. Your hairstyles change, thanks to your ladies-in-waiting, but your jewelry does not alter. 

“I do not have any others, Sylus.” You reply, plainly. He’s taken aback. You speak as if that is normal, as if that suits his wife. Puzzled he leans down, 

“You do not have any others?” He parrots, voice tilting in confusion. You nod. “My dear,” He sighs, exasperated. He pinches the bridge of his nose, huffing a laugh. “If you needed— or wanted more— I’d be willing to buy it for you. I have told you before, no? My pension is yours to spend.” 

You keep your eyes on your lap, twisting your fingers nervously. The carriage comes to a stop, followed by Sylus stepping out. He holds open the door with one hand, the other reaching out for you. 

“Come. Let us eat. We will discuss this later.” You take it hand, carefully exiting the carriage. 

Perhaps you’ve become a bit spoiled with the Autarch. He isn’t anything like the rumors. Sure, perhaps you’ve overheard a few conversations while passing by his office room that you most definitely shouldn’t have. He’s straightforward, blunt about his wants and offers. When insulted, he retaliates. 

With you though, he’s kind and warm. He holds an arm out for you whenever you go, he gives in to any of your desires, nor does he restrict you in any matter. You’re free to spend as much money as you would like. You may go anywhere, converse with anyone. 

Being the Autarch’s wife allows the world to become your oyster. 

He’s attentive and dutiful as well. Despite being married for over six months, he has not pressured you about fulfilling your marital duties. In fact, he defends you. When your father came to visit you, he remarked that you were not yet pregnant. He scolded you, telling you that you were letting a grand opportunity slip from your fingers because of your stubbornness. Your comfort. 

You mentioned this conversation to Sylus. Albiet, it was after a very uncomfortable and sudden attempt to fulfill your ‘duties’ as a wife. Nothing had happened. But Sylus wasn’t pleased. And that’s saying it lightly. 

He was furious, demanding your father to explain himself. You are his wife, no longer that man’s daughter. Sure, he cannot erase the blood connection you have, but your father severed any ties he had with you when he sold you off. 

You’re one of the lucky ones, to say the least. Hearing the stories of other women during functions or balls certainly isn’t helping either. You do not think Sylus would be a beast, nor force you into fulfilling your duties, but he is a man after all. He too has desires. Perhaps he may need them fulfilled… 

“Sweetheart,” Sylus calls out to you, noticing you’ve spaced out. You blink up at him, feeling his fingers brush your bangs out of the way. He smiles, ushering you into the restaurant. He doesn’t smile at others, reserving it only for you. The staff are slightly comforted by the fact that the Autrach’s lady is with him. He tends to be more harmonious with you around. 

He isn’t cruel to them, more destructive. But he pays handsomely for his misbehaviour, so the boss doesn’t dare complain. You take a sit across from Sylus, allowing him to serve you a cup of tea. You’ve noticed he quite likes the tea they serve here, opting to drink multiple cups. 

“What were you thinking about?” He asks, resting his chin in his palm. He’s teasing you, his lips curled up. You chuckle, breathing out. 

“Nothing of importance.” You reply, raising the cup to your lips. You don’t dare bring up the conversation of his needs in public. But you cannot help but wonder: Has he ever thought of it? 

You don’t think you would mind. It’s not as if you are in love with him. You like him, you’ll admit. He is kind, nurturing, everything you have longed for after dealing with a multitude of arrogant, abusive men. He is a breath of fresh air.

But if the ladies at the balls and functions are correct, then you cannot abstain from your duties forever. It must happen eventually. Whether you like it or not. You're uneasy for the remainder of lunch. If Sylus notices, he doesn't say so. But you know it will come up eventually. 

The market is bustling as usual. Even more so when the locals are aware that the Autrach is here. You've learned that people are more partial to speaking to you than him. You're kinder, softer. Sylus is well… Himself. 

You stop at multiple stands, admiring the handwork and trinkets that are on display. You find a few pieces of jewelry you like. Paid by Sylus, of course. You look back to see him looking around at the people. You take a gander as well. There are many beautiful girls in sight. Your stomach churns once again. This time though, you feel like you may puke. 

For your image's sake, you request to go back home. Sylus does not question you, but his hand is firm on your lower back. The ride back isn't peaceful by any means. Sylus allows you to lean on him, but that doesn't help you either. You whimper into your own palms, sick with worry. 

It's a blur, getting back to his estate. When you come to consciousness, one of your ladies-in-waiting is pressing a cold towel to your forehead. She quivers because behind her is your husband, arms crossed and brows furrowed. You blearily blink as you open your eyes, groaning. Everything hurts, your head, your stomach, and especially your throat. You cough, violently sitting up. Your lady-in-waiting gasps, rubbing your back. 

"Your Highness!" She comforts you. She's nudged aside by Sylus who kneels by your bedside. She brings a cup of warm water to your lips. You swallow down the water, the ache in your throat easing slightly. He pulls it away from you, silently placing it on the table. 

Soon, a doctor comes into the room. You can't hear his conversation with Sylus, but his body language only frightens you further. You weakly reach out your arm to him, tugging on the sleeve of his robe. You feel horrible. You whimper a sob, his head turning around swiftly. He clutches your hand in his, smoothing a hand over your sweaty head. 

It's summer, there's no reason you should be catching a cold. His face is the epitome of worry. You know the doctor's still talking, but you keep your eyes on Sylus's gaze. His beautiful eyes. He presses a kiss to your knuckles, rubbing your cheek. 

"I don't understand." He states, speaking to the doctor. The doctor cowers behind Sylus, eyes on his sock-clad feet. 

"Perhaps Her Highness isn't adjusting well to a new environment. Stress can do unimaginable things to the body, Your Highness. Ample rest will do her well." He writes a prescription and hands it to the lady in the corner of the room. She nods as the doctor turns back to Sylus who is still looking at you. 

"She will recover, Your Highness." He bows before exiting the room. The lady also takes an initiative to go retrieve your prescription, leaving Sylus and you alone in the room. He's perplexed. What could you possibly be stressed about? He's provided everything you have asked for. Is there something he is missing? Is he lacking in a department? 

"My dear," He whispers, thumb brushing over your forehead. Your eyes flutter shut. The corners of your eyes burn the longer you try to keep them open. Sylus shushes you softly, rubbing over your eyebrow. "Rest. We will speak later." 

You do not get the opportunity to speak to him later. In fact, you do not see your husband until winter. Monthly, you receive a letter from him. He's stuck in a neighboring nation, having to stay until the end of the summer festival. However, the date for his return keeps getting pushed back by unseen circumstances. He still sends money weekly though, handed to you through one of the guards you met on your wedding day. Occasionally, he sends you presents. Custom-made hairpins, necklaces, earrings-- You name it, he has bought it. He has also sent a tailor to your home, requesting that you get some new clothes for yourself.

You sit in the house all day, replying to his letters with simple replies. You do not have much to say in return. He ends every letter with blessings and the same message, 

"I truly hope you are resting well, my dear. When I return home, let us sit down and talk. I am still concerned about you. If there is anything you wish for, please voice it. Even if it is a complaint. I will do better. Take care, my dear." 

You are still riddled with worry. Your father's words still haunt you after multiple months. How can you comfort yourself when every story you have heard has ended the same? You've heard it happen again and again. Perhaps you just need to swallow your pride and do as you are told. You cannot run away from your fate. 

If it is meant to happen, it will. 

Despite all your anxieties, you still miss Sylus. He made you grow accustomed to eating together once a day. It is painful to see only one plate, one teacup set at the table. It hurts to see that his bedchamber no longer has his scent. You long to hear him call you "my dear" once more. You long to feel his ruffle your hair when you make him smile, or when you pout at his jokes. 

Despite everything, you do love spending time with him. You love being with him. You've come to love Sylus. Sylus, who despite everything, is the complete opposite of the rumors that caused you to have nightmares. You do not live in fear of the man who sleeps down the hall from you. You are willing to let your guard down. You, for the first time, are willing to love. You want to love, but you do not have anything to offer. And that is the most painful part of it all. 

How can you love this man when you are not ready to love him in the way every man wants? However, winter must pass. Spring will always bloom. 

New Year's has arrived in the time Sylus has been away. In his latest letter, he writes: 

"My dear, I'm pleased to say I am going to depart tonight. I apologize it has taken me this long to return. I long to return home to you. How have you been? What is different this time of year? The daturas in the garden should be blooming around this time. Ask Luke and Kieran to take you out to the market, fetch yourself any sweets you enjoy. You have been through a rough year. I hope that this year will be better for us both. I also hope that you have fun at the lantern festival this year. I had wanted to be the first person to take you, but it seems the stars have not aligned for us, have they, my dear? Enjoy your time with your ladies. Luke and Kieran will guide you to a terrace I had reserved for us. I hope that you will enjoy the view." 

With the letter is a red packet, stuffed with cash. Your eyes bulge at the sheer weight of it. You glance back at Kieran and Luke who bow, smiling softly. You are bummed though. You had wished that he would return before the end of the year. However, you are the wife of a merchant. This is simply part of it, is it not?

You are ushered by your ladies-in-waiting to get dressed. The lantern festival is tonight. Despite Sylus's absence, you are still attending the festival nonetheless. Fan in hand, you walk down the streets, trying to follow Luke and Kieran's confusing directions. If you're being honest, you're partially irritated. Why couldn't they just take you? 

You grumble, going down a path of taverns. It is beautiful out tonight. The wind is blowing softly, the glow of the night lights are gorgeous. Not to mention how alive the city is tonight. As you scoot between people, murmuring apologies, you spot a flash of white in the corner of your eye. You do not know what has compelled you to look up, but you do. You're glad you did. 

Returning your gaze is a certain white-haired man. Someone you are intimately familiar with. Your eyes widen as he smiles, sipping on his drink. But your irritation slowly seeps back in. He is gone for months and shows up in the most casual way possible. You shoot him a glare, hiding your face behind your fan. You see him chuckle before you turn your head and keep walking. 

But Sylus has never let you stray far from him. Somehow, he manages to get a ribbon tied around you. You're flung into the air, a loud scream escaping your lips. You squeeze your eyes, heart racing. He also has never let you fall. Sylus takes a hold of you, pressing you to his chest before seating you on the railing.

You peek up from his body, your fan still hiding your face. His hair has grown longer, his build stronger. Your cheeks flush being so close to him as your eyes dart away. 

"Husbands don't typically kidnap their wives off the street, you know?" You mumble, pouting. Sylus rumbles a laugh, turning himself to stand beside you. He leans on the railing, tucking your hair behind your ear. 

"I missed you too, kitten." He snickers, tapping at the car ears on your head. Your eyes widen as you smack his hand away. 

"That was… I didn't ask for such a hairstyle!" He's already teasing you despite not seeing you for over six months. You huff, swinging your legs. Sylus smiles beside you, resting his head on your shoulder. He presses his nose into your skin, inhaling your scent. You stiffen, allowing him to touch you as he pleases. Sylus hums into your skin. 

"Truly, I have missed you, sweetheart." His eyes flutter shut, melting into your side. He pulls away, guiding you to the small table and chair set on the balcony. From here, the view is amazing. You can see the entire city and its beautiful lights. Your eyes dilate with wonder, the lights glowing on your face. 

Sylus takes a seat across from you, pouring the clear liquid into the cup he was previously drinking from. He smiles, standing. He stands between your legs, placing the rim of the cup at your lips. 

"We never did have a drink together, did we?" His eyes glow with sincerity. The bags under his eyes are deeper as well. You lean forward, sipping from the cup. Being so close to him after being apart for so long, you take initiative to press forward. His brows raise, but Sylus does not back away from your touch. Your arms loop around his neck, pulling him down. He kneels by your feet, tilting his head up to yours. 

You finally press your lips over his, sighing into him. He opens his mouth, allowing some of the alcohol to slip into his own mouth. It burns down both your throats, but you do not mind it. You want to kiss him, want him to understand how deeply you have missed him. 

It is private up here, there's no need to worry about onlookers or gossipers. However, you're sure someone will say something about your indecency. Sylus, always thinking ahead, pulls away. His eyes flutter open, gaze dragging up from your lap to your eyes. You've looked away from him, your face red. He chuckles, taking your hand in his. He presses a kiss to your knuckles, whispering. 

"I have missed you terribly, my dear." He presses another kiss to your wrist, inhaling your scent. "However, I am still worried. You never elaborated on your worries. Let us air your grievances, release your heart of your stress and worries before the New Year, hm?" He tilts his head to the side, nuzzling into your palm as it cups his cheek. You inhale deeply, voice shaky. He comforts you, rubbing your hands with his. 

"I was afraid you would…" You take a moment, pausing to articulate yourself properly. Sylus is patient, giving you the floor. "I was afraid you would become impatient with me one day. Come to resent me for failing to perform my duties as a wife." You keep your eyes glued to his hands rubbing yours. He doesn't speak, allowing you ample time to speak your mind. "If you wished to fulfill your needs with another woman, I would permit it. It isn't as if I could stop you." 

Finally, Sylus intervenes. 

"What?" He replies, brows tugged down in confusion. "My dear." He shifts on his knees, fully kneeling on his knees. He dips his head down, trying to catch your gaze. He pushes up your chin, eyes swirling with compassion. "Why would you think such a thing? Have I said anything to warrant such a thought? If so, I sincerely apologize." 

Sylus takes your hands and places them on his heart, allowing you to feel the way his heart is racing beneath his chest. Your eyes well with tears. If your ears were real, Sylus is certain they would be tilted down. 

"My father…." Sylus groans at the mention of his name. "And the stories I've heard from ladies. It is a normal thing to desire one's partner. I just-- I just was never ready. And I do not know when I will be." 

Sylus sighs, chuckling softly. He cups your face, pressing a kiss to your cheek and forehead. He looks at you as if you've hung the moon and stars, lips turned into a soft smile. 

"You do not ever have to be ready. You do not owe me a thing. You only need to accept my love. I have loved you from the moment I saw you in town. You never needed to prove a thing to me." You stared at him, bewildered. Sylus chuckles at your realization. "You haggled with me." He snickered, shaking his head. "You called me a low-life for having such a high price on sweets. When I saw you again when I returned to Xuanyu, seeing you in such a state, I did what I could to help you." He clears his throat, ears reddening. 

"Is that why you…" You say under your breath, only for Sylus's ears to hear. He grins, nodding.

"Yes. You have never needed to prove yourself to me. I have loved you since I saw you." Love at first sight. That was not what you were expecting. He brushes your bangs away from your face. "Do not allow people, let alone a man like your father, to get into your head like this. Drive you sick with worry." He bumps his head against yours, wincing softly. Sylus chuckles, kissing you once more. 

He finally stands to sit across from you. You turn your body, finally noticing the lantern on the table. You take a hold of it, revealing a paint brush and dish behind it. As you twirl it around, a painting of a cat is illustrated on. 

"I drew it." Sylus says, amused. He pours another drink, swallowing it down cleanly. You frown, looking at him. You narrow your eyes. As you point to your head you speak, 

"This was your doing." You state plainly, not even questioning his involvement. He laughs across from you, his shoulders and body shaking. 

"Yes. And I think it suits you quite well, kitten." He jokes, pouring another cup. This time, he pushes it in your direction. "Drink. Then I will take you somewhere else to see the lights. We may light ours as well." 

You take the cup in your hands, copying his movements. You regret it instantly, sputtering a cough. Sylus chuckles, using his sleeve to wipe the liquid that drips down your mouth. You clear your throat, glaring at him. 

"You drank it like it was water… It wasn't that bad earlier." You huff, placing the cup back down. Sylus stands, watching as you draw your arms out. He tilts his head, admiring you softly before scooping you into his arms. 

"Distance truly makes the heart grow fonder. Wouldn't you agree?" You nod against his shoulder, looping your arms around his neck. He holds you with one arm, allowing you to rest on the bend of his arm. His hand splays over your thigh, squeezing it slightly before standing on the railing. "I hope you aren't afraid of heights." 

In a flash, he jumps off the railing. You grip onto him, afraid he may lead you to your death. However, you begin to feel light, as if you're floating in the air. Sylus drifts around the tavern, bringing you to the rooftop. You stand on the ridge, gripping his hands for dear life. You whimper softly. legs trembling at the sheer height. You look at Sylus, brows knit with worry. He grins, chuckling. 

"It's alright. I won't let you fall, my dear." He flashes you a toothy grin seeing you tremble softly. In his other hand, he holds the lantern with his free hand stretched out. "Come, we may light it together." You're quick to pull into his embrace, arms wound around his waist. You press your cheek into the side of his chest and bring your hand under the lantern. His hand cups yours, encapsulating you. 

The lantern softly lights up, a golden-orange hue shimmering over your faces. You gasp, giggling as you watch it float. Behind it are hundreds, if not thousands, of other lanterns. They float in the night sky, flying high. You watch in awe as the sky is practically lit up. Your eyes travel to Sylus's face, who is already looking at you. 

"To a better year." He softly whispers, leaning down. His nose brushes against yours as his lips graze your forehead. He presses a kiss to your temple, eyes fluttering shut. You squeeze your arm around him, cheerfully smiling. 

It takes you a while to get comfortable to Sylus's touches. He starts small, kissing your knuckles and cheeks. He allows you ample time to back away, to let the hesitation slip in. It never does though. You're certain in him. The Autrach is clingy though, always having an arm around you. The sheer weight of him is something you may get used to. Nor the heat that radiates off his body. 

His touches are never rough though, soft and patient. He's quick to pick up on your cues. A hand on his chest as you stand on your toes means you want a kiss. You stare at his face long enough, perhaps you also want a kiss. You simply exist in his presence? A kiss! 

The kisses never lead to anything much. The furthest you've gone is sitting on his lap. It's become your new home, your throne. 

His kisses aren't rushed, even if he is leaving for the day. Soft and mellow. His hands aren't either. They're gentle, thumbs brushing against your ribs over your robes. They're big enough to cover most of your waist. You do enjoy looking at them. Your mind wanders from time to time. Even staring at him tends to have your mind wandering. 

The first time you go further with the Autrach is on a late evening. You had just been invited by a high ranking official for dinner. The dinner was also a business meeting, the official requesting something from Sylus. The two of you stumble into your shared bedroom, fingers through each other's hair. For the first time, Sylus's kisses are rushed. As if he cannot get enough. 

Your back hits the wall, Sylus's legs sliding between yours. It rides up your dress, a moan pulled out of your lips. That was the first crack in his resolve: your noises. Next is your touch. Your hands drag down his chest, nails curling into his shoulders as you try to push yourself up. The final is you saying his name:

"Sylus," You breathe out, hands clutching onto his robes as you tug him lower. He practically melts into your touch, humming into your mouth. Sylus's hands reach under your outer robes, tugging on the belt around your waist. It falls by your feet with a thump, his fingers massaging your waist and hips. You moan into him again, his tongue gliding between your lips. Your hands pull off his robes. It pools by his feet before he pulls you closer.

Sylus takes a few steps back, the back of his calves.hitting the bed. He pulls you down with him, bunching your clothing around your hips when you kneel around his hips. Sylus lays below you as you crawl over him. He takes a moment to admire you. Lips swollen, eyes dilated as you pant. You're so beautiful he might die right then and there. 

"My beloved." He calls out to you, cupping your cheek. You rub your cheek into his hand, humming. He huffs a laugh, drawing you closer. Your entire weight on his body, Sylus keeps one hand over your ass, the other tangled in your hair. 

You sigh into him, kissing him once more. Sylus’s hand kneads your ass, breathing out your name. He manages to roll you under him, pinning down your hips so you can’t run away. You lock your ankles around his tailbone, rubbing yourself over him. 

It’s maddening, the pure spikes of pleasure you get from simply rubbing on him. Sylus encourages this, hands around your hips as he grinds you harder onto him. He mutters soft praises, kissing down your neck. He manages to tug off your final layer of clothing, leaving you in your undergarments. You shy away under his gaze, looking at the curtains that canopy your shared bed. 

“You’re beautiful, my beloved.” Sylus praises, nipping the junction where your neck and shoulders meet. You gasp softly, smacking him on the shoulder. He had a knack for biting. 

“Stop that, you dog!” You hiss as Sylus laps at your wound. He lifts his head up with teasing eyes. 

“Woof.” You roll your eyes, allowing your head to smack against the bed. You groan as his teeth bite down on more of your exposed skin. It feels nice though, especially when he laps and sucks at it. He brings a hand up from your hips, massaging your breast. 

He uses the sides of his fingers to pinch and roll your nipples softly, allowing you to get used to the sensation. You’re awfully sensitive though, writhing under the smallest of touches. Sylus keeps his eyes on your expressions, watching for any sign of discomfort. 

Your eyes are squeezing shut, brows knitted, but the wanton moans escaping your lips hint that you’re enjoying yourself. Sylus snickers, leaning down to once again nip at your skin. He laps at your sensitive nipples, blowing cold air over them. Your back arches into him, hands smacking at his bare shoulders. 

He laughs, finally committing. His lips wrap around your nipples, suckling at the sensitive peaks as they fully harden in his mouth. His hand reaches out, intertwining his fingers with yours. You dig your nails into his knuckles, back bowing harshly the more he sucks. 

Sylus pulls away, spoiling your other breast with the same attention. His free hand slides down your torso, followed by his lips. He kisses down your stomach and ribs, reaching your undergarments. He tugs them down with his teeth, letting them pool at your ankles and inevitably slide off. 

He slides off the bed, kneeling by the edge. Sylus wraps his hands around your ankles, tugging you off the edge. Your ass hangs over the edge, putting pressure on your tailbone, but Sylus alleviates it by having a hand under you. Your legs dangle over his broad shoulders, a field of white hair between your legs. 

His eyes darken, pulling apart your lower lips with his fingers. You’re swollen and dripping, body tensing the longer he looks. You whine from above, 

“Sylus,” You cry out, nudging him with your foot. “Stop staring, it’s embarrassing…” It isn’t the first time he’s seen you bare. There’s been a handful of times the Autrach has snuck his way under your robes and lapped at your cunt. He’s gotten a face full many times, but this time it’s different. 

He’s seeing you in the light, in a space where he can truly hear you whine and cry out for him. He hums, still staring. 

“I know, kitten. But you’re so beautiful. How could I not?” He smirks from between your legs, watching as your head hits the pillow again with a scoff. He’s always been one for flattery, showering you with praises and flowery words. 

He doesn’t waste anymore time, gliding a finger up and down your slit until you’re bucking your hips. Sylus concedes, gently sliding his finger into your heat. Your walls clench around his intruding finger that goes straight to your sweet spot. Having mapped out your body, Sylus knows where to prods and poke, what to tease and lick. He’s thrilled watching you react to his ministrations. 

His finger curls into your cunt, pulling a pitchy moan from you. You inhale, his thumb coming down to press on your clit. He watches as your walls constrict around his finger, soaking his digit. Your slick smears around your inner thighs, down to the base of Sylus’s palm. 

He adds another finger, your cunt spasming at the stretch. You whine, narrowing your eyes at him. He doesn’t return your gaze, but chuckles. 

“I need to make sure you’re stretched out, my beloved. Or else it will hurt.” Your huff is cut short when his thumb starts circling your clit, smearing your slick over it. It heightens your sensitivity, hips bucking into his palm. Your moans never stop, a mantra of Sylus’s name the closer you get to your peak. 

“I know, beloved. It feels good, hm?” Sylus grins, admiring your face from where he’s kneeling under you. He stands, his fingers still fucking your cunt to see your face. He uses his free hand to squeeze your cheeks, allowing you to scoot higher on the bed to support your back. “I want to see your face.” He whispers, hovering over you. 

Your legs lock around his hips loosely, slowly nodding. You enjoy his attention, being pinned under his gaze. It’s exhilarating, heart ramming against your chest. It leaves you breathless and flustered. His gaze is so sharp, so strong and mind-numbing. You want to succumb to all your desires, blurt out every want and feeling you have to him when he looks at you like that. 

Your stomach begins to tighten, breathing in heavier. Sylus watches your face contort, lips forming into an o-shape as your back arches forward. Your hips stutter, hands clawing at Sylus's back. 

"Sylus," You moan out, head rolling back against the sheets and you writhe. He hums in return, too enamoured with the sight of you about to cum. You grip his wrist, nails digging into his skin, but Sylus does not stop. He presses harder, keeping the same rhythm. He ups the intensity, rolling your clit side to side. You finally succumb to your desires, a hot gush of slick flooding Sylus's fingers and wrist as you cum on his hand. You cry out far louder than intended, his name on the tip of your tongue as you press your forehead to his shoulder.

"My beloved." Sylus purrs, kissing your cheeks and swollen lips. You whimper against his lips, curling into him as you come down from your high. "So beautiful. All for me. My beautiful wife." He presses a flurry of kisses over your skin, lapping at the sweat the drips down your neck. 

Sylus is able to pull multiple orgasms out of you, not once tugging down his pants. Boneless and hazed, you reach out for Sylus who's lapping at your cunt as if his life depends on it. You push on your elbows, tugging at his strands. He lets you pull his head back, guide him over your body. You slot yourself into his arms, pinning him under you. He's pliant to your touch, allowing you to move him however he pleases. 

As you mount his hips, your greedy fingers tug at the string keeping them around his hips. You roughly pull the fabric down, unintentionally soaking Sylus's thigh. He feels your heat soak through his pants, sending his head reeling. He's been holding onto a thread of patience the entire time, prioritizing your comfort over his own pleasure. 

You dip your hand down, gently holding his cock in your hand at the base. Sylus sighs, relieved at your hand wrapped around him. Your hands are softer, much warmer than his palm. He shudders as you pump him once or twice. You mutter his name, throat hoarse. 

"Yes, dear?" He groans, hands settling on your bare hips. You're quiet, staring at his cock as it throbs in your hand. 

"I don't think it will fit…" Your voice trembles slightly, dragging your eyes up his well-toned torso to his face. Sylus's brows crease before he chuckles. He leans up, pressing a kiss on your lips. 

"It will, trust me." You crawl backwards, laying flat as Sylus crawls over you once more. He presses kisses to your skin, soothing your tense body. His hand kneads your hip as he whispers, low and soft, "We'll take it slow." 

It comforts you slightly. You look away when he brings your sore thighs up to rest on his shoulder. Your ankle dangles over his frame, Sylus's free hand coming down to align himself with your entrance. He slides the tip of his cock over your swollen lips, moaning as your heat envelops him. 

"Sweetie," Sylus calls out. You turn to look at him, his eyes warm. He smiles, tilting his head down to kiss you once more. "Slow. We take it slow." You nod in return, eyes glued to his cock between your thighs. You watch as his hips push forward, the tip disappearing past your entrance. The stretch is there, but it isn't intense. Sylus groans, your wet walls instantly clenching down on him. He sputters, gasping. 

"Beloved." He squeezes your hip, strained. "Relax, relax." He runs a hand up and down your side, feeling your body melt into the mattress. Your cunt gently relaxes, allowing him to push in deeper. Sylus sighs in relief, his cock sinking deeper into you. You pulse around him, eyes on his face. His eyebrows are creased together, the tips of his ears flushed red. 

It feels like an eternity before Sylus fully pushes himself inside of you. By then, you're chest to chest as Sylus shallowly grinds himself into your cunt. You clench and gush around him, moaning out his name into his lips. Your nails track marks down his arms and back, certain they will bruise by morning. But that's neither here nor there.

You have your fair share of marks as well. Sylus's bites litter your body. One you're sure you ladies-in-waiting will giggle about as they help you bathe tomorrow. But again, that's neither here nor there. You indulge in the long awaited moment with your lover. Your husband. 

"My wife." Sylus groans, kissing you once more before he retracts his hips. He pushes back in, the two of you moaning in unison. It's beautiful, how in tune the two of you are. Sylus pulls away from your lips, whispering against your skin. "Do you know how irresistible you look when you succumb to your desires?" He looks ravenous, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. 

You flush, kissing him once more, hands cupping his cheeks. Sylus nuzzles into your palm, gently biting down on the meat of your palm. 

"I want to devour you, one bite at a time." He leans closer, noses brushing. "May I? Please, my beloved. I want nothing more than to have you. Be one with you. Will you allow me that?" He's borderline needy, pleading against your lips. He's giving you one last opportunity to back out, despite everything that has transpired in your shared bed tonight. 

You know if you said no Sylus would back off. But you do not want to. You want him to devour you, consume you until you become one-- Body and soul. You nod, 

"Yes, my husband. Please," You pant against his lips. Sylus's patience has snapped, his hips fucking into you. The tip of his cock abuses your sweet spot, your stomach feels sore as it clenches around him. Your chest pushes into his, nails scarring down his back. Sylus groans at the pain, but it only makes his orgasm grow faster. 

You're not too far behind him, blubbering and babbling against his lips. His thrust grows sloppy, but with your legs locked around him, he opts to keep grinding his cock into you. You mewl, keeling when his pelvis rubs against your clit. You're long gone, cumming on Sylus's cock with a shout. You screech, throat aching as you sob into him, pussy spasming around his cock.

 Sylus cranes his neck back to look at your face as you cum. He doesn't mind the neck pain he'll deal with tomorrow as the sight of your face is the sole reason he cums instantly. It's a quick rush of heat inside of you, spilling out between your inner thighs. Sylus's body gives out, his entire weight pressing down on you. He noses your neck, inhaling your scent as he mutters praises. 

"My beloved wife. Beautiful, soft. Thank you, my love. Thank you." He's babbling, pussydrunk. "I love you." Sylus weakly pushes himself up on his elbows to kiss your lips once more. "Thank you. I love you, my wife. My beloved."